Unspoken
by MTVbabe11
Summary: What was Marry thinking when she saw her sons for the first time in 22 years? Marry's POV, oneshot, please R&R.


**Author's Note: This from Marry's point of view, and takes place during the end of "The Journey Home." Oneshot. Please review! **

It was the first time she had seen the boys for twenty two years, and it felt like more.

They thought she was evil, and maybe she was. Yet Marry felt nothing but pride for little Sammy as he bravely charged into the room, grabbing the young girl. "Don't look, don't look-" he told the girl in a hushed voice, carrying her to safety. Marry slowly followed, each step painful and burning.

Marry knew what she had to do. She heard the scream, the sound of breaking wood. She entered the room to see Sam pushed up against the wall, unable to move, pain in his face. She felt the heat vibrate off her at each step, heat that should burn the wooden floor but doesn't.

She walked closer and closer--seeing first fear on Sammy's face, than something new. A question on his face, starting to recognize who she is.

What she is.

Dean was here now, going to save Sam. Marry felt even more pride as she watched Dean--brave, caring Dean--hold up the gun at her. She was not worried. Even if he shot, she would at least know why. It was why he did everything Dean did--to protect his younger brother.

"No, don't! Don't!" Sam urgently screamed a second before Dean squeezed the trigger.

"What! Why!" Dean asked, half looking at Dean, half eying Marry. _See me,_ she silently begged him, _I know you can._ Something asked her why Sam did. How could Sam recognize her?

"Because I know who it is," Sam answered in disbelief, his face shocked as he watched the fiery figure that was Marry. "I can see her now."

And in that moment, Marry changed. The fire whirled around her and away from her, the red hot fire covering her head become long, golden hair that fell down her back. She could feel the silkily fabric of the white nightgown on her. And for the first time in a long, long time; Marry felt normal. She could feel her cool skin, instead of the ever annoying heat. Her red eyes glowed and became a deep blue.

As her hair settled all over her back, Dean's face showed a shock even greater than Sam's. Slowly, he lowered the gun. Somewhere inside her Marry knew Dean would never shoot her. He'd see. "Mom," he breathed. Marry felt so many emotions. This would be the last chance she had to tell Dean what he meant to her. How many things she wanted to say--

_I'm proud of you every day and in every way._

_I'm so sorry._

_I wish you had a childhood, a childhood you deserve._

_Your smart, Dean, smart enough to go to one of the top colleges._

_I love you._

But there was no time. There was no time to sit down and talk and apologize; to listen and cry; to love and be loved.

Something like a sad, half-smile crossed her lips as she watched forward to Dean. She searched his face for anything to clue her in onto whom he was in life--was he happy? All Marry wanted was for her boys to be happy.

How could she convey all of these wild emotions? "Dean," she said, looking up at him. That would have to do. Dean would have to understand how she savored saying his name, how proudly she said it. But from the look on his face, the shocked look, Marry knew Dean didn't understand what she had meant through his name.

Or maybe he did? The way he looked at her, stared. Marry could say more but it made her tired, it was so hard. For a moment more she stood there truly smiling, watching him. Than she moved on to Sammy. She knew Dean's head followed her as she walked. She knew he wanted her to say more. She knew he _needed_ her to say more.

But Marry didn't.

She would say more to Sam--she had to. There were so many things to be sorry for, so many words unspoken. But she couldn't leave it at "Sam," she just couldn't,

"Sam," Marry said, her eyes connecting with his. Another name full of emotions, another name spoken proudly. She wanted to hug him. It was so hard-standing so close yet being so far. Sam smiled quickly, than wrinkled his brow trying not to cry. Marry could cry, but she had to be strong. Ghost's don't cry.

Moms don't cry.

Her smile was gone. "I'm sorry," Marry told him.

_Sorry for your lost childhood_

_Sorry about Jessica_

_Sorry for leaving you so early_

_Sorry for--_

There was no time to think, to realize that last, most important reason she was sorry. There seemed to be no time, while Marry needed all the time in the world.

Sam didn't respond for a minute. He made several facial expressions-sadness, confusion, shock. "For what?" he asked. Marry gazed at him sadly, her depression crashing on her. She couldn't tell him. She just couldn't tell Sam.

She turned fast, a supernatural speed in her veins. Sam was in pain. This was not the time, not the place. _And,_ she thought, _soon there will never be anyway I can tell talk to them. My amazing boys._

She walked forward, talking to the cruel spirit. Marry's face held an anger, angry at everything, and mostly, angry for the spirit hurting her son.

"You get out of my house," she ordered. "And let go of my son." It was over. She had hoped when she met the boys, it would be just the beginning. But it wasn't. For Marry, it was the ending.

Instantly flames began to eat her up as she attacked the spirit, countering it with herself. It was destroying her, flames eating her up and sending the flames to the ceiling. A horrible pain ripped through her, exploding. And her last thoughts before her spirit was destroyed, before she was thrown into whatever lay to wait her was:

_Sam, Dean, John--I am so sorry._

**Author's Note: Okay, I'm not sure how that turned out. Please review )**


End file.
